Fei Chuan froze.
Dragon's fate...
He had also heard these words from Bei Sangyun—the so-called fate that made her avoid him and leave him four years ago.
Fei Chuan's face darkened.
"And what exactly is this dragon's fate you speak of?"
The old monk handed him a cup of tea. "This will be a long story. You should drink your tea while listening."
Fei Chuan had no desire to drink tea, but the old monk glanced at him and then at the cup. It seemed he wouldn't start unless Fei Chuan drank it.
Reluctantly, Fei Chuan reached for the tea and downed it in one gulp.
Seeing him obey without needing to be told twice—unlike a certain someone—the old monk chuckled in amusement. "It seems that between the two of you, you are the well-behaved one."
Fei Chuan set down the teacup and frowned. "...Who are you referring to?" It couldn't be... Bei Sangyun, right?
The old monk did not answer his question but instead looked at his breast pocket. "You seem to be carrying an interesting object."
